Maybe in Another Life
by azazelblackangel
Summary: What if reincarnation was true? What if you manage to remember your past lives?


The fan fiction author does not lay any claims to Bleach and its characters, to the image from which the cover photo was derived, nor the idea which was given by my sibling.

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Maybe in Another Life

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It didn't matter whether they were dieties or angels, demons or souls. It didn't matter what they were, except the fact that their souls were intertwined, a promise that would be their curse and their saving grace.

Tatsuki was curious, after the adrenaline rush of danger had passed. She was curious about the blue-haired arrancar that Ichigo had fought before. She didn't know why, but there was the nagging feeling of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that she was missing something very important. And she knew, quite positively, on the other hand, that it was that man who brought that feeling to her.

"Oh him?" Ichigo replied to the query. "His name was Grimmjow Jeagerjacques. He got blindsided by another Espada."

"Is he still alive?" Why did she ask that? And yet here she was, waiting for the answer with bated breath.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "If he was he's probably still recovering." The uncertain answer left her ambivalent.

"I see," she replied, trying to be nonchalant about it, as if it was of no concern to her. Why would it be of any concern to her? But it was, as to how and why she didn't know, save the fact that she needed to know. And then she couldn't breathe. "I need to go," she managed before lauching into a full run towards home.

She was in the attic. She knew it was there, just there, buried with all the other stuff they didn't use any more. She knew it was there, just had to find it. She felt the tears brim her lids as she searched the lost things. She didn't care about them, as they blurred her eyes, falling and staining her cheeks. And then her fingertips felt the familiar texture. It can't be anything else.

The smooth cover of the sketchpad. It had been several years since she had laid down the pencil. She hadn't made any more drawing or art unless instructed to do so, because her art had been rather dark. And it always had been about them. "How could I have forgotten?" she murmured softly, tears streaking her cheeks like slow meteors. "How could I forgotten about him? How could I have forgotten to search for him?" She lost him in this life.

oo0O0oo

"Damn it," she muttered as the creature's claws almost ripped her side. She needed to take them away form the more populous area of the city, or else other people might be endangered. She was Tatsuki Arisawa, a Soul Reaper, doing her job in Hokkaido.

"Shit," she growled again as the beast howled in joy at the spilling of the shinigami's blood as she crashed into a building. The monster was quite strong, and she's pretty much screwed up right now. And then, the Hollow was no longer attacking her. That would only meant one thing: it has found something of more interest than her. Forcing herself up, she found it eyeing a young gentleman. And she rushed in.

She must be a total idiot, she thought as the Hollow's arm made a hole through her chest.

"Aw damn it. And here I thought I was going to be a captain soon," she muttered as she felt her breath shallow. It was painful speaking, heck, even painful breathing. She's really gone and done it this time. That was when she was able to take a better look at the man. He was looking at her, shock registering on his eyes, as wide-eyed as her, surprised, before she felt herself being lifted up, remembering that she was currently impaled on the Hollow. With all the strength she could muster, she hacked at the Hollow's mask, feeling it crack with all the force she used. And then it dissipated, leaving a dying Soul Repear and a human alone.

"Oi, are you okay?" the man cried as he approached her. "Oh shit," he muttered, seeing the blood and the horrifying wound on her midsection as he tried to touch her only to let his hand pass through.

"Hey, it's fine," she grinned, coughing up some blood, hearing her voice raspy and hoarse. "Hey don't worry. You're still young. Life's good. Treasure it." And then she felt tears on her eyes as she reached for his face. Foiled again. How many times will this situation be like this, one of them always somewhere else. "Maybe we'll meet up sometime, ne?" she muttered before darkness claimed her.

oo0O0oo

Dark, and cold, that was what she felt as an experiment. She wasn't the first one. There were others like her, given immortality that they did not want, or perhaps didn't deserve, trapped in a faux body that will never die. Though the technique was still imperfect, they have managed to transcend the realm of the gods. They have found the secrets of the soul. Shinigamis were no longer necessary. The balance of the souls were no longer placed in their hands but on humans, living ones. They have defied death.

And then she cried, feeling the salty bitter tears streak down her face, memories of the long gone past surfacing. Stuck here in this room, hanging off the wall like some tapestry, she cried. She would never meet him again. It was no longer possible. She couldn't travel now, forever stuck here in this dark room, trapped, unable to move through space nor time, alone. She sobbed. She would never meet him again.

Just then the door opened, revealing a blue-haired boy. "Hello?"

_"Maybe it was worth it. Maybe all the wasted lifetimes were for this moment, when I would come to you and you to me." Then he smiled, closing the manuscript cover and walked towards the publishing house. He wonders idly, would she like what he wrote?_


End file.
